Craving
by Mercurial Phoenix
Summary: With great power comes great sacrifice. No one knows this better than Sarah Williams.


Title: Craving

Rating: PG for…implications. :D

Warnings: Sarah's naughtiness.

Summary: With great power there comes great sacrifice. No one knows this better than Sarah Williams.

"My _kingdom_ for a double-chocolate-chip cookie."

"That would be _my_ kingdom you're swearing away to satisfy your unhealthy sugar addiction," said Jareth mildly, signing a scroll with a flourish. "Impatient though you are, we're not married yet, you know." A long, frustrated moan was the reply.

He glanced over his shoulder. There, he thought fondly, was his darling, his beloved, his future queen, his bride-to-be—sprawled inelegantly in the cushion-bedecked window seat of his private office, staring up at the ceiling, whining like a cranky child about the various junk foods she'd so selflessly given up when she'd left the Aboveworld and agreed to marry him and rule over the Goblin City, as well as the Labyrinth and the rest of his Underground kingdom.

He shook his head and pulled another parchment closer to him, scrutinizing the messy handwriting. Nearly an entire year of courtship—she'd made him jump through hoops, hell, and high water—had convinced her of his love, but hadn't quite sold her on the merits of leaving behind her precious snack foods for the joy of overseeing a castle full of squabbling, bickering goblins.

He was distracted from his thoughts by another loud moan, and had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Really, my dear, you'd truly consider trading our kingdom for a handful of foods that will, at the very least, send you ricocheting around the castle like a small rocket?"

"Mmm…raspberry cheesecake." Sarah sighed exaggeratedly. "Oreos. Butter pecan ice cream."

_That's probably a yes,_ Jareth decided.

"And thus, through your insatiable and unfathomable appetite, I am relegated to a pauper." He put his quill down to cross his arms and regard Sarah with mock despair.

"But an extremely well-fed one," she reminded him.

He snorted. "Hardly. Your eating habits would place the human race in danger of extinction."

She snorted right back at him and flopped onto her stomach, her chin in her hands. "The human race is forever on the brink of extinction. What with nuclear warfare and world hunger and global warming and all. You just can't tell because people have too much extra-marital sex for the species to die out completely."

Jareth regarded her with something akin to amusement.

"An interesting philosophy. The fate of the human race depends on adultery." He hummed interestedly. "But can you support your theory with historical evidence, primary sources, documentation? The devil's in the details, you know."

She threw a cushion at him, which he dodged with ease.

"I hate you."

He tutted at her and picked up his quill again, running the feather idly over the edge of his desk as he smiled at her with the sort of patience only a man head over heels in love can develop.

"And yet you said 'yes,'" he reminded her.

She rolled her eyes. "Because my blood-sugar was obviously too low. I can't be held accountable for my actions when I haven't had enough sugar. You took advantage of my weak, defenseless state."

Jareth momentarily contemplated the possibility of a 'weak, defenseless' Sarah, and snorted inelegantly in reply.

"I proposed to you after ten months of humbling myself at your expense," he corrected. "I _deserved_ a 'yes', at the very least."

"My point exactly," Sarah argued. "I held out for almost a year. Then I missed my lunchtime Snickers bar, and you showed up asking me to marry you—"

"For the fortieth time in forty weeks," Jareth interrupted. "You can't claim you weren't expecting it." He'd hardly attempted to surprise her with his intentions: he'd asked her once a week to marry him, and despite the continual declined offers, had continued doing so until she finally sighed at him in exasperation, hands on her hips, and said if her agreement to his proposal meant he'd stop annoying her every Sunday afternoon at three-fifteen, then she'd do it for sheer peace of mind.

"It was a world record, I think," mused Sarah. She angled her head and glared at him. "And then you went and ruined it by getting me to say yes."

"Yes, I did, didn't I?" Jareth smiled proudly.

"I had a moment of insanity," Sarah insisted. "Sugar-deprived insanity. And now that I live in the Underground, where essential things like Oreos are few and _nonexistent_, you'll cause me a lifetime of them."

He hummed in agreement. "Most likely. In return, you understand, for _you_ making me absolutely crazy, placing myself and my kingdom in the hands of a sugar-hungry madwoman."

"You and your kingdom can go jump in a lake," she muttered.

Jareth chuckled. "As entertaining as it might be to witness my goblins voluntarily entering a body of water, you forget, my dear—I and my kingdom are your only bargaining chips for getting that cookie you want so badly." He winked at her.

Her eyes unfocused again, and that dreamy smile drifted across her lips.

"_Mmm…_double-chocolate-chip…"

"A prize worth a king's ransom," Jareth commented, tongue-in-cheek.

"Don't tempt me," she warned darkly. He shook his head and turned back to his desk.

She regarded him for a moment, then grinned and stole quietly to his side.

"Jareth," she murmured softly, twining her arms around his neck.

He paused, not looking at her, but she knew she had his attention.

She slid onto his lap. "Do you know what I _really_ want, Jareth? Do you know what I'm craving _right now?_" A fingertip trailed over his shoulder seductively. "So badly that I can almost…" Her lips brushed against his. "…mmm…_taste _it?"

His eyes met hers, and that devilish smirk curved his lips as his free hand slid along her thigh. "What might that be, my dear?"

She ran her fingers through his hair and leaned close to his ear.

"_Coffee,"_ she purred.

He pushed her off his lap and resumed scribbling on the parchment, while she sat on the floor and laughed at his sulky scowl.

"A Starbucks Frappuccino, to be exact," she clarified, and beamed widely at the deeply disgusted look he threw her. "Mocha flavor, preferably, but regular's okay, too." He didn't deign to respond, only dotted an _i_ with a deliberate jab. "Aw, Jareth, you're not mad at me, are you?" She pouted up at him prettily. "I can't be blamed for my actions. My blood-sugar, remember?"

"Tease," he muttered.

"Sucker," she shot back, unable to stop the massive grin of triumph from spreading across her face.

"That was an unworthy deception," Jareth retorted, crossing a _t_ vengefully.

"Is that your way of saying 'That's not fair'?" Sarah asked, smiling up at him innocently. She rose to her knees at his disdainful sniff and rubbed at her sore tailbone, on which she'd landed after being unceremoniously dumped from her betrothed's lap. She'd only just managed to miss the cushion she'd thrown at him earlier. "Because if it is, I'd like to know what your basis for comparison is." Her eyes twinkled at being able to toss his long-ago words back in his face.

Jareth turned to her, irritated.

"No, that's my way of saying—" He stopped, his eyes immediately locked on the sight of her hand rubbing over the curve of her bottom.

She glanced up at him curiously. "Saying what?"

He shifted his gaze to hers—his bi-colored eyes had gone smoky and wicked—and lifted an eyebrow at her. "Saying that if you're going to talk the talk, you're going to have to walk the walk."

Her eyebrows drew together. "What?"

He tossed down the parchment, stood, plucked her up from the ground, threw her over his shoulder, and strode towards the bedchamber, while the room echoed with her delighted, amused laughter.

A/N: Because flirty!Jareth/Sarah is TOO HARD TO RESIST. NO REALLY. IS TOO MUCH FUN TO EVEN PRETEND TO TRY. :DDD


End file.
